Our next stop was at Vigan, a well-built town, many of whose houses
are of stone. We reached the town in a motor-car, passing through well
cultivated fields of maguey. The mountains, rising abruptly from the
coastal plain, are here cut by the famous Abra de Vigan, a conspicuous
gap serving as a land-mark to the mariner for miles. And it is the
custom to take a ride of many hours up the pass, and then come down
the rapids in two, on bamboo rafts built for the purpose. This is
a most exciting trip; alas! we had to be contented with an account
of it! But Vigan itself was worth the trouble of going ashore; its
churches and monasteries are extensive, dignified of appearance,
and far less dilapidated than is unfortunately so frequently the
case elsewhere in the Islands. Not the least interesting item of our
very short stay was a visit to a new house, built and owned by an
Ilokano, and equipped with the most recent American plumbing. The
house itself happily was after the old Spanish plan, the only one
really suited to this climate and latitude. But then the Ilokanos are
the most businesslike and thrifty of all the civilized inhabitants:
their migration to other parts, a movement encouraged of long date
by the Spanish authorities, is one of the most hopeful present-day
signs of the Archipelago, I was sorry to take my leave of Vigan;
the place and its environs seemed full of interest. One more stop we
made at San Fernando de Unión the following day, a clean-built town,
but otherwise of no special characteristics. Here we met an officer
of Constabulary that had been recently stationed at Lubuagan, who
told us of coming suddenly one day upon a fight between two bodies
of Kalingas, numbering twenty or twenty-five men each, and this in
Lubuagan itself. According to our ideas, it was no fight at all,
the champions of each side engaging in single combat, while the rest
looked on and shouted, waiting their turn. One man had already been